


Prelude - Leszek the Gangrel

by Airie



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Cats, Origin Story, Realism, gangrel - Freeform, vampire, vtm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1615559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airie/pseuds/Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Origin story of my feline Gangrel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prelude - Leszek the Gangrel

“Oh fuck no…!” Monika bent over, feeling her gut paralyzed with pain. “Gaaah… not again…!”

Her insides felt like they were rotting, which wasn’t that far from truth. She knew what’s going to happen next, this wasn’t anything new to her. She had no strength to stand up anyway, so she slipped to the ground. The shovel rested beside her. She laid on her side, desperately working her pants before she loses control of her body.

But it was too late, her abdomen convulsed, her gut gave in. She felt her sphincter ripped apart by a flood of despicable matter; refuse mixed with blood from her insides. She screamed, knowing no one will hear her anyway. She screamed with all the pain and humiliation her tightened throat would allow. She shit herself, able only to helplessly cry and curse, waiting for the last gushes of shit and blood to pass.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck…” She bellowed over and over again like a mantra, hoping her weak body will be merciful enough to let her pass out.

But she was conscious the whole time. The whole time more and more excrement filled the back and front of her pants, stuffing itself lower and lower, dripping down her legs and smelling so foul she could vomit, but her stomach was empty. She ate barely anything. Not only because of her condition, but also because she couldn’t afford decent food.

It finally ended with a weak fart, barely a whisper. Her ugly face was pale, waxy. She was covered in shit, tears and sweat, shaking from helpless anger and humiliation.

There was a purr next to her ear, soft fur brushed against her feverish cheek. Monika opened her eyes, seeing Rascal, her prized Maine Coon. The cat stared at her with all the contempt and disgust a feline could focus in its eyes.

“What…?” She asked the cat as if it could understand her. “I’m dying, okay?”

\---

The doctors said it was stomach cancer. Terminal. They scheduled her for a series of tests to determine… she never heard just what they wanted to determine, since she stormed out of the room and never came back.

Cancer. Basically they could just say ‘Miss Pracz, you’re going to die sooner than us. Now, your bill.’ She didn’t fool herself, she had no chance of walking out of this one. Even if, she had no money for treatment. All her resources melted right after aunt Agnes died.

From the start… Her parents were young when she was born. Too young to want her, but their family was a traditional one, so she was delivered to term. Then, they excused themselves and ran to the States to pursue their future… without a troublesome suckling slowing them down.

She was dropped at her aunt’s doorstep. The old lady was a bitter woman, who agreed to keep the brat only if her parents promised to send back fat dollars to the piss poor back of Eastern Europe she inhabited. The deal was struck. I take your ugly unwanted kid, you pay me until its old enough to get the hell out of my house.

The only thing that separated Aunt Agnes from a crazy cat lady was that all her cats had pedigrees and were bred to be champions. She had a prosperous cat breeding farm, despite communism some wealthy and stuck up people paid good money for a supreme bred cat, not some alley furball from the shelter.

Monika grew up a quiet kid. The one you never remember from your graduation class until you see their picture in the album. Even then, you don’t quite remember their name. Agnes was a sordid, but fair woman and held to her end of the bargain. Monika hadn’t had a loving and blissful childhood and teen years, but Agnes made sure the skinny girl Monika grew up to be was always fed and healthy, and that she could provide for herself.

Monika was indeed skinny. Flat chested to top it all up. No ass and hips to speak of. Wide, manly shoulders and long limbs with large feet and hands. There were hopes she’ll gain some feminine curves once she matures, but she never did. 

She was pale, although liked going outside. To ‘fill the scrawny brat’s time’ Agnes sent her on all the trips and summer camps she could find. Mountain hiking, seaside swimming camp, anything. Monika liked that, actually. Some time to spend away from home, with people she’ll only have to endure for two weeks then never see again. Besides, she liked to test her mettle against a step wall or a high wave.

She rushed through school, then college. The day she came back home with her diploma she saw Agnes dead, half-decomposed and eaten by her cats. When Monica saw the old hag laying dead in bed she could only sigh and call the cops, then go to her cabinet and have a solid gulp of vodka. She didn’t cry.

A few years passed, she hoped to have her own clinic, but things just kept falling apart. She started to feel prolonged nausea and lost what little weight she had. Then came the diagnosis.

\---

For fuck sake, she was a veterinarian, an animal doctor! She inherited a big house and a cat farm! Not just any cat farm, one of the best in this part of the country! And all her aspirations and dreams were overridden by cancer. Her stomach deciding to torture, then kill her.

She stepped out of the shower and approached the mirror. Her face bore nothing remarkable, aside from deep shadows under her tired brown eyes and hollowed cheeks. Her hair was light brown, collarbone length, with no particular hairstyle. It just ‘sorta grew’. She had a triangular face with a pointed chin. Her eyes were large, with heavy eyelids. Her nose was large and wide, her mouth wide with thin lips. Overall, her face looked as if it never bore any deeper thought. Most people assumed so, she never protested.

Her dirty clothes were in the wash, she couldn’t afford to throw them away. She passed two frolicking kittens and entered the back of the house, passed the kitchen and descended down the stairs to the garage.

She dried her hair, staring at the corpse she stuffed in the back of the garage that was also the basement. Who he was she had no idea. She heard him trying to break into the back of the house and waited for him in the kitchen, crouched next to the door with a vegetable knife. When he entered all she could focus on was the side of his neck. She struck, then pushed him off the stairs. After a few minutes she dared to flip the light switch and go down into the garage.

He was young, maybe her age. He smelled of cheap alcohol and some chemicals. Drugs? She searched the still warm body but found neither wallet nor cellphone. All he had on him was a hammer, some rope and a makeshift knife. There was also a small plastic bag with some pills, so she was positive he was a junkie looking for some quick money. 

She could tell he was dead; his neck was twisted unnaturally, the cheap kitchen knife she used was broken, the handle was lost somewhere in the gloom. She knew there will be a lot of blood when she removes the blade, so she left it there. She decided she has to get rid of the body as soon as possible. She went to dig a hole in the back of her yard, close to the woods, but that was when her guts decided to go berserk.

Now she was standing next to the stiffened body, thinking of how to dispose of it. It was stupid to think she could have dug up a hole large enough all by herself, but she was stressed. Now that the adrenaline was gone, she could think. She needed to eat something.

She kicked the unnamed robber and went back to the kitchen. Rascal was there, still staring. She shooed him away, the cats already ate tonight. She had to feed herself now, though knew she’ll regret it later when she starts digesting.

Since she was short on cash, she ate the same thing her cats ate; wet canned food she had from a steady source at wholesale prices. Tossing her towel aside (whatever, only cats to keep her company) she opened a can and heated up the stove. She fried a bit of meat and jelly, added some salt, spices and egg, then whisked everything on a pan into a gross slop.

“Eww.” Was all she could say when she sat at the table with a glass of milk and the grotesque omelet. 

She ate some, her tastebuds were numb anyway. The milk was getting bad but still tolerable. She was calculating how to get rid of the body. She had to dismember it and agreed that her first plan to bury it on her parcel was ridiculous. She had to dump it in water or leave somewhere far away from home. Her house was just pass the city limits, where houses were far apart from each other and she lived alone so it was only natural someone would try to break into her house soon. She should have seen that one coming.

There was a knock on the front door. She froze, a piece of egg with meaty slop fell on the plate, spraying fat all around. The cops! No, how? Be rational. She gathered her towel and rushed across the living room to the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, but dared not open the door.

“A friend.” A voice replied. A man no doubt about it, his voice was low and hoarse with an accent she couldn’t quite identify. Still, he spoke the same Slavic language she used. 

“Wrong house!” She shouted back, trying to see him through the visor, but it was too dark.

“You’re Doctor Monika Pracz.” The voice was firm. “I need to talk with you. Besides, I think you could use help with… the trash.”

The hell? What was going on?! Who was that?! The robber’s partner? Some psycho killer? But would a killer be asking to let them in? Of course they would, to dull her caution… Ah, fuck it. She was dying anyway.

“I’ll just get dressed.” She said tiredly.

She went to her upstairs bedroom, flung on a pair of loose sweatpants and a hoodie, then went back. But just to be safe, she took a more decent blade from her bedroom, the one she had in her nightstand ‘just in case’.

“Get in.” She said, opening the door. The knife she had hidden in a pocket at the front of her hoodie.

“Thank you.”

The man entered, bending over. Sweet Jesus, he was the tallest and biggest man she ever saw! He was over two meters tall, and obviously much more than one hundred kilos heavy!

“Who are you?” She asked, trying to find a weak spot to attack just in case. Stomach, solar plexus, Adam’s apple, the groin… He was too big and tall for her, she was barely over one hundred seventy centimeters tall and weighted forty five kilos. He could snap her limbs with no effort! She wouldn’t feel safe even if she had a gun!

“Like I said, a friend. Could we talk in the kitchen?” He asked politely. His demeanor didn’t suit a man as muscular and savage in appearance as himself.

“Uh… yeah.” She gestured at where the kitchen was.

The cats stared, but showed no sign of fear. The man eyed them and nodded with approval.

“They look healthy.”

“I look after them. They’re my responsibility.” She replied indifferently.

They entered the well-lit kitchen. She sat where her plate was, just realizing the stranger might draw strange conclusions seeing her dinner. Well, fuck him.

“I have to say I was looking forward to this meeting.” He said, sitting opposite to her, the chair creaked in protest.

In this light she could see him better. He was blond, his hair was grown out and unkempt. He also had thick stubble. His face had something that made her think of Vikings. She had no idea why, but she could imagine that giant pillaging a village or something. His eyes were light gray, she didn’t like to look into them. His clothing was loose and comfortable; solid boots, loose jeans, a thick brown woolen sweater and a thick leather jacket.

“So, what do you want?” She asked cautiously, pushing her cutlery aside.

“I have an offer. I was hoping to present it to you later, but given the circumstances…”

“Did you sent that fucker into my house!??” She roared, getting up and slamming her palms against the table. She immediately gasped and sat, her stomach burned from the stress and sudden movement.

“No.” He said calmly. “But I saw him slip into your home through the garage.”

“And you did nothing?” She grunted, the pain she felt gave her a sudden surge of rage.

“I wanted to test you. I wanted to see if you got the mettle to survive. Because that you have the will I made sure a long time ago.”

“Are you stalking me?” She grunted, fighting her pained stomach.

“Yes. For the past year I have been observing you carefully. And I like what I see.”

“Get the hell away from me, sicko!” She shouted, pulling herself away from the table and pulling out the knife. Pervert! She knew he had to be seriously fucked up if he spent a year stalking an ugly bitch such as herself.

“Please, calm down. I have no lewd intentions, I assure you.” He raised his palms as a gesture of good will. He had huge hands, he could crush her skull between those palms like a grape!

Monika breathed fast and raspy, her hands were sweating, her head felt light. Jeeesus, she needed to just sit down. She exhaled loudly, sitting on the chair again, but dared not release the knife. Even if he kills her, she’ll slit his smile.

“What was your name again?” Was all she could breathe out.

“Zirgulas.”

“That’s… original.” She wiped the sweat off her brow.

“It was fairly common where I lived when I was… young.” He replied. “Aren’t you hungry anymore?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Ah, at least I’m not spoiling your dinner. Tell me, what do you plan to do with the body?” He asked, as if they were having tea.

“At first I wanted to bury it in my backyard, but…”

“Foolish.” He agreed, resting his hands on the tabletop, where she could see them. Though he had no fixed expression, there was something savage about him. Something that at the back of her head made a little voice scream ‘predator, run!’, but she ignored it.

“I have an axe, good for chopping wood in the winter. And a lot of thick plastic foil, left from when I had the house painted. I thought I could chop him up, then…”

“Then?” He smiled, was it her or were his teeth strangely… sharp?

“Cat food is getting expensive.” She replied. “He’s dead anyway, so why not… No, forget it.”

“Conscience?” Zirgulas inquired.

“I found drugs on him. I don’t want my cats to get sick.”

The giant laughed, giving her chills. God, his teeth were sharp!

“Oh, I like you, Monika!” He expressed. “You are practical and do not hesitate, I like that in a person.”

“Yeah… thanks.” She muttered. This night was crazy enough to make her completely not give a fuck.

“Alright. I’ll help you get rid of him. I’ll cut him into pieces, but you handle the rest. This will be our little secret.”

“That’s not why you’re here.” She cut him off. “What do you really want from me?”

“I’m a vampire.” He revealed without a blink. “And I want to make you one.”

“You sure you’re okay in the head?” She asked with a bitter frown. “Or high?”

“I’m doing fine. And before you wonder, you are not dreaming neither is this a hallucination from stress or lack of nourishment. I’m here, Monica. I’m impressed by your integrity. I want to see you put it into good use.”

She laughed, this was all too crazy. First she killed a robber, then a stranger came to her house, confessed he stalked her for the past year and now he says he’s a bloodsucking monster and wants to make her one? Ha! The laughter fell into a cry, when her insides protested. Fuck her weak body! Fuck it until it bleeds!

“Motherfucker…!” She yelped.

“Your cancer is getting bad, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off. Turn into a bat or something.” She taunted.

“My totem is a wolf.” He replied with no signs of offence. “It must be hard for you… Your own flesh your worst enemy. I admire how you refused to give up. But your time is running out.”

“Piss off.” She whispered, growing weak. “I don’t want your sympathy, I’m not a charity case.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Zirgulas raised his strong arms to the ceiling, for the first time growing impatient. “I am being straightforward with you, human. I’m courteous enough to approach you with an offer. Believe me, I could just jump you and take your blood by force, but that wouldn’t be different from common rape. I ask you – would you agree to let me take you?”

She stared at him. Why not? She had less than another year to live, she knew that. What could be worse from this humiliating existence?

“Give me the details. Where’s the catch?”

“I like a smart woman.” Zirgulas relaxed. “I’ll take all your blood. Then I’ll give you some of mine when you’re one step from death. You will die, but my blood will bring you back. Blood will be all your sustenance, you won’t need to eat…” He pointed his chin at her now cold omelet. “You won’t need to bother with diseases, your body will be free from all the limitations mortality bears. Have you ever thought about having children?” He asked in a businesslike tone.

“No.” Monika replied, surprised. She never thought about that. There were some mates in her life, but nothing worth of all that emotional vulnerability a relationship required.

“Then you won’t be missing anything. You won’t breathe, your heart will stop. In time, the organs you won’t need will shrink. You will be stronger, trust me. That knife you clutch so hard? You can jam it into my eye and I’ll just get angry. It will take a lot of effort to kill you for the second time, believe me… Your blood will also allow you to learn some unique abilities… I’m sure you’re going to love them.”

“And the downsides?” She asked. There had to be downsides!

“You will share your body and mind with a beast. Some fight it, some chose to bend it to their will. I have my suspicions of what you’ll choose. Say goodbye to the sun. And all you ever held dear. But we both know you got to where you are mostly alone.”

“Yeah.” She grunted.

“Do you accept?” He bent forward, his broad shoulders were wider from the cheap table.

Monika just now noticed they weren’t alone. All the cats she had were in the kitchen; on the shelves, on the counter, on the windowsill. The Maine Coons, the Persians and Abyssinians, as well as some of the other breeds she had were staring at her. Their eyes glimmered, tails waggled slowly. It seemed they wanted to hear the answer themselves.

She looked at Zirgulas. How old was he really? Why did he choose her? Did he just want to… drink her blood one night, but curiosity took him over and he decided to examine her ways, like one examines an unknown animal? What will happen next? Too much questions, preventing her from acting. Dwelling was pointless.

“Yes.” She said, releasing the blade.

In a second he was upon her. With a wide swipe he cleared the table, the glass and plate shattered, so did an old vase Agnes loved so much. Monika hated it, but could never bring herself to throw it away. He grabbed the girl and laid flat on the woodwork, pinning by the shoulders. She screamed with primal terror, seeing his teeth gnashed, his canines sharp enough to break the skin. He bent his head back, then struck.

The whole time the cats kept in place, staring and purring. When he was done, she crawled down to the garage, where the blood of the dead human robber called to her.


End file.
